Unexpected
by groaar
Summary: Post Jak X. The gang is celebrating at the Naughty Ottsel and Torn is trying to get some alone time, but is failing miserably! TornxJinx. Not your cup of tea? Then don't read, ok.
1. Chapter 1

Why have I written this?

I don't know… Perhaps I've spent too much time playing games... However, the idea came to me and then simply refused to leave. This was the only way I could deal with it.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, none of them. We have to thank Naughty Dog and Sony Computer Entertainment for them, I'm afraid.

Warning: Malexmale, nothing too explicit though. And some spoilers, if you haven't played the games.

Raiting M just in case + for possible future chapters.

* * *

The bar was noisy and stuffy. People were crowding the dance floor and the smell of sweat lay heavy in the air. Torn was glad he wasn't out there, but that he sat safely tucked away in one of the booths at the Naughty Ottsel. Ashelin had tried pulling him out of there at first, saying it would do him good to let loose and join the others in their celebration, however, she had eventually grown tired of his stubborn persistence and left him to his own devices.

Of course the red haired man was pleased that they had survived their last ordeal, and not perished at the hands of such a lazy man as Krew. Still, this didn't mean he had to go crazy on a dance floor. Torn preferred the company of himself, thus the choice to spend the evening in a booth, silently sipping a drink or two and minding his own business, suited him perfectly. This was what celebration meant for the tattooed man.

An hour or two into the night, and a remarkably higher number of drinks later, way more than the one or two he had planned to limit his consumption to, something rather unexpected happened. Jinx, off all persons, slipped into the seat opposite of Torn.

At the arrival of the other Torn looked up from his drink slightly, but chose to remain quiet. He didn't really feel like communicating with anyone, Jinx in particular. The blond man seemed to be unaware of Torn's wishes though, starting up a conversation as soon as he had seated himself comfortably.

"So, good thing ya didn't all die, huh?" Jinx started happily. A slight slur mingled in his voice, but only very slight, so Torn suspected the blond wasn't all too drunk. Not yet at least. Quite a shame really, as he probably would have been easier to get rid of if hammered.

"Mm, I suppose" Torn mumbled, trying his best to convey his disinterest by drilling holes into the table with his eyes.

It seemed to have about half of the desired effect. Jinx actually remained quiet, only sending a slightly perplexed look the redhead's way, but he showed no signs of leaving. It didn't matter much though, as Torn was sure he could wait the blond out. Jinx would surely grow disinterested sooner or later, similarly to Ashelin, or so he had thought. No matter how long he waited though, the blond stayed put, and the whole situation proved a lot more frustrating than Torn had imagined. Had he had nothing to drink Torn was sure of that he'd be more level-headed, but one big torn in his pride was the fact that he had never been too strong when it came to alcohol; a fact he would never willingly admit to anyone, but true nonetheless. Tonight though, he'd figured it would be safe to drink, as everyone else was just as generous on the intoxicating drink as he, but apparently he had been wrong.

The silence, usually his closet friend, was now unnerving. He glanced up at the bomber, who sat comfortably leant back towards the backrest, lazily glancing out at the dancing masses. That was until he noticed he was being watched. This caused the man to grin slightly, and turn his gaze towards the ex-guard.

"So, shouldn't you be celebrating with the others?" Jinx asked, eyeing Torn from behind the rim of his stoup of beer.

"Well," the tattooed man started, gesturing at the bar and the dance floor connected to it "technically I am"

"Whatever man" Jinx laughed and turned his attention back to his beer. In one sweeping movement he downed the remaining of his drink, his Adam's apple bobbing curiously as he swallowed the malty liquid. Torn hadn't even noticed he'd been staring at it before Jinx rose and walked away from the table, effectively putting an end to the redhead's silly pastime. Strangely distraught by this loss Torn simultaneously felt pleased, as he now finally was rid of the intrusive blond.

However, it wasn't for long that the tattooed man was able to join his solitude. Within minutes Jinx was back at the table, this time with two drinks in hand; one of which he placed in front of Torn. The commander regarded the drink warily before he turned his blue eyes towards Jinx, giving him a sceptic look. The blond shrugged and grinned foolishly.

"You just looked like you needed one" he laughed, and now it was Torn's turn to shrug. He wasn't a man to turn down a free drink though, not in a drunken state at least, so he mumbled a thanks and pulled the glass closer yet to himself.

Lifting the glass to his lips the ex-guard looked out over the dance floor, and he immediately spotted the other tattooed redhead. It wasn't as if he was looking for her, but his eyes just seemed to seek her out whenever they saw fit. Maybe they were just accustomed to doing so, Torn couldn't really tell. Anyhow, he couldn't deny Ashelin was quite the hot package, and he was apparently not the only guy to think so. Ashelin was namely busy mingling with some other guy's tongue, and he couldn't seem to get enough of her either, greedily deepening the kiss as he was.

Torn looked away, and it didn't go unnoticed by Jinx.

"So, I though you and Ashelin had a thing"

"Oh, nah… didn't work out, never has" the red haired man muttered.

"I see"

Torn interpreted the blond's raised eyebrows as a sign of slight surprise, however, he was glad Jinx hadn't press the matter further. The blond had seemed content with whatever answer given to him, and had simply returned to quietly sipping his drink while looking at the dancing crowd and their crazy moves.

"Looks like they are havin' fun" the blond remarked a while later, absentmindedly scratching his bristly chin. Torn was unsure of whether it was Ashelin he referred to, or the people in general, but he settled for the latter option, dryly pointing out that Jinx was free to join them. Despite the bitter comment, which had really only been a nice way to ask the blond to leave, Jinx remained put.

"Nah, I'm fine just here" he had stated, and after having nonchalantly taken another mouthful of his newly bought drink Jinx had turned his eyes back towards the dance floor.

As he was used to his remarks having an immediate effect the blond's indifference struck Torn as rather annoying; after all he was supposed to be the king of sarcastic comebacks. No one should be able to walk away from him with a smile on their lips had he not allowed it.

On the other hand he also found Jinx's stable mood quite admirable; it wasn't everyday he met people like that, very seldom as of lately. Thinking even more of it Torn reached the conclusion that part of his frustration might even be rooted in jealousy, as he himself was prone to lose his temper; a quality that sadly didn't always work in his favour. When it came to Jinx though, it seemed he could keep his smug expression in place no matter what, even now… and so it was that the tattooed man caught himself staring at the older man, again.

"I see blondie's finally hit it with that girl" the bomber suddenly exclaimed, braking out into a wide smile. Torn glanced in the direction Jinx was looking, and sure there stood Jak, his lips locked with Kiera's.

"Hmm, yeah. It was about time anyway"

Jinx laughed a little and made a remark about how people were saying the same about Torn and Ashelin, too; a comment that made Torn rather uncomfortable. Letting out a big sigh he gulped down whatever drink Jinx had offered him earlier.

"Look, we tried a relationship and failed at it. Twice." Torn grunted, making sure to emphasise the last word. "Three times even, if you count what happened in KG" he quickly added, exasperated. He just couldn't comprehend why this one topic had to come up time and time again. His and Asheiln's relationship was not anything anybody else needed to worry about, but no one else seemed to realise that.

"Sorry for bringing it up" the blond offered.

Torn grunted something inaudible, showing that he had acknowledged the other's excuse. Also, after a few more mouthfuls of alcohol, and some time to reflect and regret his previous fit of anger, he apologetically added something about him and Ashelin being better of as friends anyway.

"If you say so" the blond replied.

For once Jinx didn't argue, something he otherwise seemed to enjoy doing with the ex-guard, and Torn was rather happy about that. He didn't want to discuss all the mistakes and shortcomings that were involved in this particular relationship only to prove, again, why the two of them didn't fit together. As colleagues they got along perfectly fine, maybe even as friends, but they simply weren't cut out to be a couple. However similar they might be in appearance, and even though their values resembled one another's, something always went wrong when the two took it to a romantic level.

"So, has there been anyone else?"

Torn's first reaction had been to laugh, although it had come out as more of a snort than an actual laugh. Why would Jinx even ask such a question, and why should he be obliged to answer? But all while thoughts like these occupied his brain his mouth was already revealing the truth.

"There was this guy in the guards, but, our perspectives on the future were just too different… a shame really, we got along well"

Drinking definitely gave him loose lips, now that Torn had been aware of, but that it would escalate to this degree... How much had he had to drink? This was personal information, not just something to be spilled to the first person who asked! Jinx hadn't seemed the least bit bothered though, he had just produced a humming sound before resuming his silent observation of the dance floor. And Torn, he continued his silent observation, too, but not of the dance floor.

"So, wanna celebrate with me tonight?" Jinx suddenly asked.

"What?" the redhead exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. What was the blond getting at, because he surely couldn't mean it like that, could he? Torn's brain was working hectically, but it still didn't managed to reach a conclusion, leading way for a long and awkward silence.

"Another drink?" the ex-guard finally managed, and before Jinx had even had the time to answer Torn found himself staggering over to the bar disk. He had to get away; away from Jinx but also from his own agitation.

He almost fell twice on his way to the bar, and reaching it he had to lean heavily against the disk to maintain balance. How he was to make it back to the table without spilling his drinks, well he'd have to figure that out later as more pressing matters were currently eating away at his brain capacity. Had Jinx really indicated that the two of them should hook up for the night? Or was it just he who was overanalysing? He didn't know which outcome would be more disappointing either…  
Where was that damn ottsel when you needed him anyway?! Irritation was quickly gaining the upper hand and Torn grew more peevish by the second. He wanted no more than to get a god damn drink, was it so much to ask for?

Finally the tattooed man spotted the orange creature, making out with Tess, of course, what else would he have been up to? Actually, everyone seemed strangely eager on exchanging saliva tonight, a pretty disturbing way to show your appreciation for still being alive, thought Torn, but decided to keep this to himself. He roared at Daxter to quit fooling around and make him a couple of drinks, the faster the better, because standing upright made him feel slightly nauseous. Also, there was the fact that he was way more bothered by the make out session than he should have been, but to this Torn chose to pay little notice.

A few minutes later he was back at the booth, where else was he to go? He sat down and pushed one of the overpriced drinks, Torn was absolutely sure Daxter had made him pay more than they were worth because he had dared to interrupt his heated moment, towards Jinx. The blond nodded appreciatively, but otherwise remained quiet. He neither continued the previous conversation nor brought up a new topic, making it painfully clear that it was Torn who was in charge of the situation. The redhead though found himself at a crossroad, unsure of both what he wanted and of what Jinx had meant, hell, he wasn't even certain he wanted to know.

"So..." the redhead started hesitantly, unsure of what direction to choose for their conversation. It was a strange mix of curiosity and discomfort. In the end he found he lacked the will, or was it courage, to find out the true meaning of Jinx's statement, and the thus he settled on a simpler question.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Jinx echoed, knitting his eyebrows as he tried to pinpoint what it was that Torn was referring too.

"No significant others?" the tattooed man clarified, impatiently tapping his fingers on the surface of the wooden table.

"No, then I wouldn't have asked you, would I?" Jinx stated matter-of-factly, his slight grin never quite leaving his face, not even as Torn jerked back just a little in his seat. Although he had suspected this was the case he hadn't expected the blond bomber to be quite so straightforward, and it was only just that he managed to keep himself from choking on his drink.

"There has been a few though" Jinx muttered, downing some of the brown liquor that had been given to him.

The ex-guard couldn't help but find the statement hard to believe, it didn't suit his mental image of the blond, and, unwillingly, he found himself trying to figure out what kind of person would chose a man like Jinx. Not that he actually had any right to judge, because when it came to it he didn't know that much about the bomber, so there was no telling if he had some redeeming qualities. But, still… it was Jinx for crying out loud! An obnoxiously loud, rude and vulgar man… whom he had spent all night with.

The clinking sound of Jinx putting down his empty glass effectively tore the tattooed man out of his inner world, and blue eyes were once more sought out the blond. Jinx had gotten out of his seat, and at first Torn only thought he was out to get another drink. However, as Jinx wishes him a good remainder of the evening the commander realised this was not the case.

This gave rise to a sudden eruption of feelings. Frustration, curiosity, repulsion, disappointment, lust… His head was swimming and his vision was blurry. Torn knew he had drunk far more than his fair share, and he knew he should work against his impulses, but his impulse control seemed to have conveniently malfunctioned.

"Wait" Torn called out.

To his surprise he was already on his feet, stumbling after the blond who had made it a few steps away from their shared booth. The tattooed man wasn't too sure what had possessed him to act out like this, but perhaps he wanted to celebrate too, just a little. Celebrate that he was still alive. Whatever was controlling him though, had Jinx halting his stride, turning his head so that he was able to look at the younger man.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer" Torn breathed, his voice barely high enough to carry through the noisy bar. However, Jinx seemed to have no problem catching what he had said, or at least that was how Torn interpreted the wolfish grin that spread across the blond's features.

"Sure, just tag along, tattooed wonder"

* * *

So, that's it for now.

Thank you for reading!

And this couple, don't ask me, but one day I was just like, yeah, TornxJinx, that'd be totally awesome!

I actually have more material I could follow up with, but I don't know.

Is this a go, or a no go? What do you think?

I might rewrite this first chapter somewhat if I decide to keep going, but I wanted some opinions, fast, so I decided to just let it be like this for the time being. Sorry for all the mistakes and the sloppy use of language!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to all who read and commented! It is much appreciated, as always! :)

It feels as if about one million years has passed since I posted the first chapter... I really have no excuse, other than being so busy I have only just had time to eat and sleep for the past year or so. It has been horrible and getting back into writing is a relief. I am afraid, however, that my skills have grown a bit rusty, so both the writing and language might suck... So I am sorry in advance. Anyways, I hope those of you who have been waiting for this will enjoy this chapter at least a little :)

* * *

Torn was having a particularly good dream and although he could feel the first string of awareness tugging gently at his sluggish brain he did not want to yield to it just yet, wishing to prolong the inevitable for just a little while longer. Gradually, though, he could feel the dream start slipping ever farther and reality settling in, which in his case equalled a horrible hangover.

The elf stretched carefully, his joints popping audibly as he reached with his arms above his head. Even though the redhead was still half asleep, and he couldn't deny that his head was nothing but a mishmash of disorganised thoughts and fragmented memories of last night, he could swear that something was off. There was just something about the bed that felt unfamiliar; softer than what he was used to. The feeling of panic that was already forming in the pit of his stomach only grew when the commander noticed that he was fully unclothed; a sign that could only be interpreted one way. And, giving it more thought, he realised he actually did ache in places that normal exercise did not affect to such a degree that they would feel strained.

The sound of movement in the room caught his attention. Torn absolutely dreaded opening his eyes. Ashamed as he was to admit it, he had no coherent recollection of last night's happenings, but, the small flashes he could recall did bode no good. Inhaling deeply the redhead braced himself for the worst and cracked one eye open. The first thing to greet him was the blasted sunlight, not at all appreciated. In his current state of horrible hangover he'd happily crash his zoomer into a wall five times over before enduring a minute of the happily bright and shiny light. This nuisance, however, proved to be heaven compared to what next caught his eye. Torn's headache, which he thought had already reached its climax, grew ten times worse.

Before him stood none less than Jinx, smoking, wrapped in nothing but a blanket.

The blond must have noticed him stir, because his green eyes were immediately directed towards Torn. He was smiling brightly, almost as blindingly as the sun, and the commander quickly let his gaze drop to the floor. He couldn't quite bring himself to look at the blond, not only because he grew slightly nauseous at the mere thought of them having spent the night together, but also because he could feel a hotness creeping up to his cheeks, colouring them ever so slightly. Jinx did, although Torn hated to admit it, look rather enticing in his attire of choice.

"Coffee?" the blond asked, casually, as if nothing had gone down between the two of them.

Torn took a moment to consider his options before replying, but as the escape plan he had hoped for didn't automatically present itself he decided coffee could not hurt.

"Sure" he managed. His voice came out sounding very raspy, even more sandpapery than usually, but at least he retained his ability to form coherent words, as Jinx, nodding, disappeared out the door.

As soon as the blond was out of immediate proximity the tattooed man scrambled out of bed. His movements were slow and clumsy and it took a certain amount of determination not to be sick right on the other man's bedroom floor – Torn's pride could not handle such an ordeal very well and to make matters worse Jinx would certainly never let him live it down, so yielding to his growing nausea was out of the question. Torn fumbled through the numerous heaps of clothes that lay scattered across the small room for a good few minutes before finally finding his trousers beneath a lumpy, smelling pillow. He did not want to know what that poor thing had been through, but as much could be said that it looked absolutely appalling.

Slipping into his trousers Torn immediately felt more secure, or at least more covered up, and he considered it was safe enough to flop back down on the bed without having to fear Jinx would attack him upon his return. _Just how much had he drunk last night to agree to this?_ Torn sighed and shook his head, he didn't even want to know.

Muffled footsteps were what drew him back out of his brooding and he sat up straight in bed just as the blond entered the room holding one cup of coffee, filled to the brim with the black liquid, in each hand. The knot that held the blanket wrapped around Jinx's hips in place was flimsy, and Torn figured it wouldn't take much more than a light tug to cause it to loosen and…Torn swallowed and pushed the unwelcome thoughts out of his head, for once glad that his mind was not collected enough to determine whether it was dread or excitement that the sight had stirred in him. There was no misreading Jinx's expression, however, as it practically screamed of disappointment – something Torn ascribed to the addition of clothes that had taken place in the blond's absence – but, to the older elf's credit he did not comment on the matter. Jinx crossed the room in a few frisky steps, making the blanket swing dangerously as he moved, and shoved one of the cups into Torn's waiting hands, muttering something about the contents still being scorching hot.

Torn was a man who generally enjoyed the sound of nothing, especially whilst working, but there was one type of silence he had never particularly appreciated; awkward silences. This was such a silence and it was driving Torn, who did not enjoy socialising in the first place, to the brink of madness. His social handicap was something that had always seemed to bother Ashelin, and that Jinx was languidly leaning against the wall, enjoying his coffee and a fag, only added to Torn's uneasiness. The redhead spent a good few minutes squirming where he sat, as if finding a comfortable position would also ease his riled up nerves, but no such luck.

"So…I never thought you'd go for a guy…" Torn mumbled in an attempt to rid the air of some of the tenseness that seemed to have chosen this sorry bedroom as a breeding ground. Spotting the slightly bemused expression in the older man's green eyes, however, immediately made him regret his choice of words. Regret that he ever opened his mouth, in fact.

"Well" the man started, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, "it's as likely as you going for one, I suppose."

"I suppose that's true" the redhead mused aloud, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. His blue eyes studied Jinx quietly, then he added "you just don't look like the kinda guy who'd… you know…" he let the rest of the sentence die down, not certain if he wanted to finish. The blond had just always struck him as someone who'd go crazy for the ladies, not the lads.

The older elf laughed at the commander's almost childlike bashfulness, smoke trickling out of his mouth as he did so.

"I'm not picky by nature, anything walking on two legs will do fine for a fuck" he clarified when his laugh had died down, and Torn was barely able to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. It really shouldn't come as a surprise, Torn figured, this was Jinx, after all. The man was obnoxiously loud and shabby, and such a person could hardly afford to be picky.

The younger elf stared murderously down at his coffee, his thoughts rapidly changing to match the colour of the black brew. He was tired, frustrated and quite bitter about last night's incident, and Torn bristled at the fact that he had let it happen in the first place. He couldn't find a reason as to why he had agreed to go home with the blond, his common sense should have stopped him, but no. There had never been much love between them anyway, and Torn had never found anything about Jinx even remotely attractive… He swore then and there that he would never again drink in such excess, as apparently he did not hold his liquor quite as well as he thought.

Jinx, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered at all. To tell the truth Torn thought he looked rather pleased with his accomplishment. He had lured the commander himself into bed, a commendable deed, indeed, at least according to some. Torn snorted at the thought and shook his head to erase all the images that came flooding back to his mind unbidden. He tried to sip at his coffee to calm down, as all the aggressions had only resulted in his head pounding more violently than earlier. From the corner of his eye the tattooed man could see Jinx stub his cig, apparently completely oblivious to the redhead's internal mood swings.

"You can use shower, if you want" the blond stated, dropping the sheet he had used to cover himself to the floor. Torn averted his gaze, and with a slight shake of his head he declined the offer, pushed of the bed and started to rummage through the dirty laundry in search of the rest of his clothes.

"You headin' home?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, whatever."

Perhaps Jinx had caught on to Torn's dislike of the situation, because this time when he spoke there was a distance present in his voice that hadn't been there before. Then again Jinx was most likely simply disappointed with the lack of reaction to his dramatic uncovering; a thought Torn found oddly comforting.

The commander dressed in silence, and only broke it once to ask where he should place the used coffee cup. The blond simply shrugged and told him to place it wherever, unwilling to give a more specific answer even as the tattooed man, one eyebrow raised, shot him a quizzical look. Torn rolled his eyes and headed for the door, trying his best to locate the kitchen.

Making his way through the house Torn couldn't help but notice a myriad of clatter scattered all over the floor; nuts, bolts, screws, cables and things Torn would simply call junk, although he did suspect they were all good for creating explosives. It all came across as very dirty though, and taking a closer look he could see thick layers of dust decorating most untouched surfaces.

Walking in the direction he guessed he'd find the kitchen Torn passed a rickety staircase and he briefly wondered if it would be safe for anyone to ascend those stairs. They looked as if they could collapse at any given moment. Actually, when he looked at the surrounding walls and the construction in general it became quite clear that the house, all over, was in a poor condition. The slums, Torn concluded.

This irked Torn's curiosity, as he had always assumed that people working for them would be rather well off, but apparently this was not the case. On the other hand, for all he knew Jinx could be spending all his money on smokes and alcohol, prioritizing the time limited getaway these substances provided over better living conditions. The commander wouldn't actually be surprised if it was the case. Jinx certainly looked the part. What suited a shabby man better than a rickety house, Torn mused, the thought instantly kicking his mood up a couple of notches as he continued his walk through the house.

Upon finally reaching the kitchen Torn quickly concluded that said room did not look much better than the rest of the house. The sink, altogether covered with unwashed dishes; some of which looked like they had been there for a very long time, smelled of something suspicious, stacks of newspaper covered the dining table and even here blasting fuses and the likes where visible in every corner. He couldn't help but whistle quietly at the sight. Ashelin had been wrong; there were places messier than his desk, and he had found one. Torn tried to find free space to put the blasted cup, and upon failing in this endeavour he opted to place it in the sink, gently, so not to cause all the other dishes to topple over. He couldn't wait to get out of there.

Upon reaching the front door, however, Torn found himself face to face with yet another problem; Jinx. Again. Most of his problems really did seem to revolve around him lately.

The blond elf, who had thankfully found some clothes to put on, was grinning slightly, yet another cig, unlit though it was, pinched between his pale lips. The tattooed man couldn't help but wonder how long the man had followed him about, or if he had appeared just now, either way he had not registered any movements and hadn't sensed his presence. Torn blamed the hangover.

"Well, if you ever get bored you know where to find me" the blond uttered suggestively, flashing a smile at the commander as he pushed past him to open the door.

How Torn even for a moment had entertained the thought that Jinx had turned distant was a mystery, the man would probably had to die before that could happened. Torn shook his head in exasperation, but he couldn't quite stop the small smile tugging at his lips from forming. Somehow he found himself taking comfort in the thought that Jinx would always be Jinx, and Torn, like any other person, appreciated some stability in an otherwise ever-changing world.

"Whatever Jinx" the redhead said, slamming the door shut the second he was out. No matter how much stability it might provide, Torn had had enough of Jinx and his smirking to last him for about a lifetime. Still, as he walked back towards what people would refer the proper part of the city, he couldn't stop his thoughts from circling around the very topic he wanted to avoid.

He pondered upon how the bomb maker had come to live in such deplorable conditions, why he settled with that and did not aim for anything better. He tried to point out all the things he hated with the man and why he hated them. Jinx had an annoying attitude, could never stop talking and, perhaps worst of all, he seemed to take nothing seriously. It all got on Torn's nerves. He was, after all, a person who favoured solitude, silence and first and foremost he did appreciate well thought-out and carefully executed plans; something last night had most definitely not been. What he could not deny, though, was that the man did possess quite the body, especially for his age. Also, the memories from last night, at least the ones he could somewhat recall, were not altogether bad. The redhead sighed deeply and rubbed his tired eyes gently with his thumb and forefinger; _had it been anyone but Jinx…_

Cracking his neck the commander decided he'd be better off not lingering too long on the subject as it only seemed to worsen the state of his hangover, and soon it would reach a level where even the fresh air couldn't sooth his symptoms. The whole ordeal with Jinx was nothing but a one night stand, and such things happen, no matter what he thought now there was little he could do to change the past. Well, he could always ask Keira to reconstruct the time machine, but as this might give rise to certain unwanted questions Torn rapidly dismissed the idea. The bright side to it all was that he'd never have to deal with Jinx again, at least with the exception of work-related matters. It had been a one night stand and here he was getting as worked up as if the Precursors' had just pronounced the end of the world. Ridiculous.

He laughed a little in relief.

A one night stand, Jinx had clearly indicated so himself.

One drunken decision, how much could it really affect his life?

* * *

I somehow feel like they turned out OOC... and I am a bit disappointed with this chapter on a whole.  
But it also feels as if working any more on this chapter would only destroy it further so I decided to post it.

And this is all for this time. There will be more, later. If you still want there to be more, that is.  
Comments are always welcome!  
Have a nice day :)


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